


In the Twilight, In the Sun

by smileyien (rainydaydy)



Category: GOT7
Genre: College AU, Fantasy AU, Fluff, M/M, Rating May Change, Tags May Change, based loosely on mythology - VERY loosely, major character death but not the sad kind, more pairings to be tagged later, there are some ocs but they're not super important
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22888558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainydaydy/pseuds/smileyien
Summary: PLEASE READ TAGS. Major character death not tagged, but it's not super sad or graphic.Choi Youngjae is a 21-year-old music major, living a completely normal life with his four best friends, until one day he gets hit by a car and dies. He then meets the Guardian of the Gate, a handsome young man who is tasked with ushering souls into the afterlife. It should have been a simple, ordinary day in the workings of the world, but nothing ever goes to plan.ORYoungjae has to babysit a godlike creature and absolute chaos ensues.
Relationships: Choi Youngjae/Mark Tuan
Comments: 27
Kudos: 41





	1. The Gate

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> I'm finally back with something new. I hope you all enjoy it. 
> 
> This is completely unbeta'd as always, so sorry for any errors or inconsistencies.
> 
> Thank you to KBAS for all of your support, ideas, and hours and hours of writing sprints.  
> And to A for listening to me complaining about writing all the damn time.

Two brass gates rose into the twilight. Intricate patterns sprung from the the spokes of the gates, swirling and crisscrossing their way up towards the sky. The brass details were covered in a peculiar type of ivy, with small pink and purple flowers blooming here and there. Youngjae craned his neck, he could just see the tips of the gates several meters above him, glittering against the dark sky. He soaked in the sight until he slowly started to return to his senses. If there was a gate, there must be something behind the gate, he thought. He strained his eyes to make out any shapes or shadows, but the nothingness that lay beyond only stung at Youngjae's eyes and brought him back instead to focus on the small flowers. A new bud grew, and bloomed, releasing a bubble into the air as it opened. The bubble sailed gently towards Youngjae, and he managed to catch it on his fingertips. 

Images danced on the delicate surface of the sphere. It was like a movie - a memory of when Youngjae was a child and fell off his bike and his older brother helped him up. Then, just as soon as it began, the scene vanished and nothing but the soapy rainbow remained. Youngjae set the bubble free, gently, just as he was greeted by another. One by one he caught and watched his memories, the good and the bad. Fighting with his mother in his preteen years, staying up all night to study for entrance exams, playing with neighbourhood kids, his middle school crush turning him down. This last one was recent, within the past few years, Youngjae and his best friends drinking and laughing the night away.

Youngjae remembered that night. It was a friday night. It wasn't anything special, not someone's birthday or even a party really. They were gathered around on Bambam and Yugyeom's living room floor, just talking and drinking. Their college exams had just finished and Jinyoung had finally pulled his head out of his books. 

Jinyoung. Jinyoung had been the reason Youngjae had even found this group of friends. Jinyoung, motherly and wise, taking scared first year college student Youngjae under his wing. His first class had just happened to be Jinyoung's elective - history of music. The lecture hall was huge, and the professor was incredibly dull. Youngjae didn't mean to, but he kept dozing off. It wouldn't have been an issue, if not for the rather loud snoring. The professor had stopped class and demanded the culprit reveal himself. He even went as far as to pace the aisles looking for the offender. Thankfully, Jinyoung had taken pity on Youngjae and saved his life by stepping on his foot (hard), jolting Youngjae awake. From then on they always sat next to each other, coffee in hand. Youngjae outside of the memory smiled as he watched Jinyoung's eyes crinkle in a laugh as Jackson handed him a fresh beer.

Jackson, who had always been busy working multiple odd jobs since the moment he came to Korea, Jackson who always encouraged Youngjae to keep going. Even when his professors had said his composition was a piece of garbage, or when a first year running to class knocked into him and spilt his coffee all over his brand new white t-shirt, Jackson was there. In the last situation he quite literally gave Youngjae the shirt off his back, though Youngjae was sure it was partially to impress the gaggle of college girls nearby with his muscles. Youngjae watched as Jackson in the memory settled in on the couch next to Bambam.

Bambam, a force of nature on two very long legs. In the memory he was talking animatedly about something that must've happened that day. His hair was orange then, bright like a flame. Every group of friends had a Bambam, or if it didn't it needed one. Even though his antics drove Youngjae up a wall sometimes, the gut splitting laughter he could invoke, the utter chaos, was necessary. And more than that, he was warm, as if he'd brought all the warmth of Thailand with him. He would insult any one of them in a heartbeat, but protect them just as fast. Youngjae knows this, because even though he and Bambam never spoke of it, Youngjae knows it's absolutely no coincidence that, after a jealous classmate tried to destroy Youngjae's final project to secure the top grade, said classmate found himself glued to the piano bench at the final recital. Youngjae had tried not to smile when he saw Bambam tossing a bottle that looked suspiciously a lot like superglue into the trash on their way out. In his memory, Bambam reached out to clink glasses with his roommate, Yugyeom, and the younger boy reciprocated.

Yugyeom, sweet and innocent. Youngjae had never met such a good natured person, he was practically impossible to anger although he did love to whine and complain. This made Youngjae (and everyone else in the group) want to tease him even more, just to get a rise out of him. Youngjae had enjoyed sharing notes with him, helping him with his homework, like the little brother he had never had. In the memory, Yugyeom was laughing, and although there was no sound, Youngjae could hear it - the most high pitched noise. About to break the sound barrier. In the memory, Youngjae himself was laughing, doubling over, slapping Yugyeom hard in the chest. In the memory-

The bubble popped, and Youngjae reached eagerly for another one. And the next, and the next. Tears were streaming down Youngjae's cheeks as he watched each scene play by and then disappear. Each time a bubble popped his heart sank a little more, as he frantically looked for a new bubble to replace it.

"Welcome, dear soul," a voice called out. They may have been calling him for quite some time, but Youngjae barely noticed.

"Am I... am I dead?" Youngjae asked, without looking away from the latest bubble.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Do you remember it?"

A boy looking barely older than himself was sitting on a wooden bench, just to the left of the gates. Youngjae wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed him earlier, he was practically a foot away. It's possible he hadn't always been there, but something about the boy's calming presence told Youngjae that most likely, the boy had been patiently waiting for Youngjae's attention since the first moment Youngjae first set eyes on the brass gates. Youngjae shook his head, focusing on the question.

"I think I got hit by a car? Maybe... I'm not sure, I wasn't expecting it at all though. I mean, I guess you wouldn't be expecting something like... that..." Youngjae caught himself babbling, and cleared his throat, "I'm Choi Youngjae, I'm 21. B-but maybe you know that already... I mean... are you God?"

"Nice to meet you Choi Youngjae. And yes, I did know that, but no, I'm not God," the stranger said, shaking his head and chuckling at the thought. 

"O-oh no, then is this...?" Youngjae cast a sidelong glance at the gates.

"I'm not Satan either," the boy assured, "And this isn't hell. In fact, those words you humans use, the concept of 'heaven' and 'hell' and even 'purgatory', they don't exist."

Youngjae pondered this thought for a moment. He wasn't particularly religious so it didn't bother him so much to find out that heaven and hell didn't exist. But the boys answer didn't sate his curiosity in the slightest. "Then where am I? And who are you?"

"This is... hmm... I guess in your language you would call it 'The Realm of the Dead'? All who die come here, to be received by me, the Guardian of the Gate of The Realm of The Dead. That's my official title but you can just call me Gate Guardian!"

The Gate Guardian smiled proudly at his explanation, and this time it was Youngjae's turn to chuckle. He had to admit this Gate Guardian guy was pretty cute. His hair was brown, darker at the roots fading into a soft purplish hue at the tips. His facial features were delicate, with soft, friendly eyes and beautiful full lips. He may not be God, but he certainly was far above the average human, Youngjae thought. He was wearing a loose white dress shirt but the fabric was sheer enough that Youngjae could make out the boy's muscular chest and small waist beneath it. Meanwhile his pants seemed to be made out of numerous brown leather belts with brass buckles. Youngjae couldn't quite make out where the Gate Guardian's pants ended and his shoes began, but he did note that they had a considerable heel to them. A smile tugged on Youngjae's lips as he realized the Gate Guardian was probably a shade or two shorter than him.

"Am I beautiful to you, Choi Youngjae?"

Youngjae felt his ears burn read. Without meaning to, he had completely checked out a complete stranger. Youngjae mumbled something vague in response. 

"Am I beautiful to you?" the Guardian pressed, leaning forward on his stool, hands pressing on the seat, like an excited child waiting to open his presents on Christmas day.

"I um... well I mean objectively, I think anyone would say that you're beautiful, yes?" 

"I think you're beautiful too, Choi Youngjae. The most beautiful human I have ever seen. I watched you, watching your memories, and I could barely bring myself to interject because even when you cry you are beautiful."

Youngjae opened and closed his mouth awkwardly, gaping like a fish. "T-thanks?"

The boy smiled, never once taking his eyes off of his visitor. They stood silently like that for a while, until the Gate Guardian sighed, shaking his head as if to clear a thought. "I have to let you in soon, the next soul will be arriving. We won't meet again after this, you won't remember me, in fact. But don't worry, you'll find everything you need inside the gates, you will enjoy eternity there."

Standing from his chair, he moved towards the gate. In his hand he carried a large brass scepter, of the same material and same design, with delicate curls and details coming to form a globe at the head. Purple flowers bloomed forth from the staff, just as they did with the gate, and Youngjae was taken in by their beauty. The boy stood in front of the gate and spread his arms wide, his white shirt flowing almost like wings. With the flick of his wrist the boy motioned his scepter and the gate doors opened, silently. 

"There you go, dear soul," the Guardian said, again proud of his work. 

"Thank you," Youngjae said, taking one final look at everything around him, lingering on the sad eyes of the Guardian's face before stepping forwards to cross the threshold.

Suddenly Youngjae felt like a jolt of lightning hit his body. He heard the crackling of electricity, sounding both far off and near, and a dazzling light blinded his eyes. Something pulled behind his navel, like he was on a roller coaster going backwards, he was being dragged away from the gate, pulling him backwards, up towards the sky. Panicked, Youngjae tried to scream, but couldn't find his voice. His vision cleared enough that he could just barely make out the Gate Guardian's face frozen in shock.

With his left hand, the Guardian reached out and grabbed Youngjae by the ankle, trying to pull him back down towards the ground. The Guardian swung out his other arm quickly, frantically motioning with the brass scepter to close the gate. Then he whistled, perhaps a call for help, but all Youngjae could see was a blur of motion below him as the two were pulled further and further into the dark sky.

*****

Youngjae gasped for air, his chest was burning, he was flailing and grasping but at what? His hands continuously came away with nothing. He could swear he was screaming but he couldn't hear a sound.

"Youngjae, Youngjae, oh god speak to me," a voice was calling frantically. A familiar voice, it felt so far away.

"Hyung, please... oh, God please..." Another voice, softer, higher in tone with a lilting accent.

Suddenly the darkness surrounding Youngjae grew lighter until he could see the inside of his eyelids, that familiar orange and red. He opened his eyes, gingerly, and saw three faces standing over him.

"He's waking up, oh! Youngjae hold on the ambulance is almost here."

"Jinyoung?" Youngjae rasped. It hurt to breathe let alone talk. 

"Yeah, it's me, I'm here," Jinyoung soothed. Youngjae's eyes began to focus, and he could finally make out the other two faces as Yugyeom and Bambam. His best friends.

"What happened? I thought..." suddenly his mouth felt like cotton. He couldn't think.

The three faces cleared out of the way, though Youngjae noted that Jinyoung's hand was still firmly placed in his. A paramedic's face came into view, and she began shining a flashlight into his eyes, while her partner examined other parts of Youngjae's body. "We'll need to take him to the hospital. Only one can ride in the back, I suggest the thers take a taxi and meet you there."

"You guys take the taxi and meet us there okay? And can you try to find Jackson I don't know where the hell he disappeared to at a time like this," Jinyoung ordered.

Youngjae chuckled weakly, Jinyoung was the reliable one after all. Youngjae felt something solid slide under him, then he was propped up on a stretcher and carried into the back of the ambulance. Jinyoung quickly climbed inside, taking a hold of his hand again. Was it for his benefit or Jinyoung's, Youngjae wondered. He tried to look around at the things beeping and whooshing around him, but the female paramedic - who evidently had climbed in with them - told him to stop moving his head so much. Dejected, Youngjae pouted, but did as he was told.  
  
  


*****

The next few hours were a blur to Youngjae. Some level of pain medication, along with mental fatigue. was most likely to blame. Youngjae let himself drift in and out of sleep freely though, feeling safer knowing that his friends and the kind, portly nurse named Subin were there to look after him. When he fully came to next, night had fallen over his hospital room; the light next to his bed was on, and he could see his three friends sleeping in chairs around him. Certainly visiting hours were over, but Youngjae was sure they found their way around that with some good ol fashioned sweet talking.

"You're awake huh, buddy?" 

"Jackson," Youngjae mouthed groggily.

The fifth and final member of their group, Jackson, was standing in the doorway completely unshaven, looking like utter hell, with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

"You didn't bring one for me, did you? I have a major headache," Youngjae said, touching his head and pulling his hand away shocked, realizing it was covered in bandages.

"Yeah, a head injury would do that to ya," Jackson laughed. "No coffee though, nurses' orders."

Youngjae rolled his eyes, but brushed it off. 

The chatter must have awakened the other boys. Youngjae could hear sleepy groans, could see Yugyeom rubbing sleep from his eyes. Jinyoung shifted in his chair, adjusting himself into a more upright position as if to pretend he hadn't truly been snoring all this time. All four sets of exhausted eyes were trained on Youngjae with concern. It was nice in theory, but honestly a little alarming when he himself had no clue what was going on. "So is anyone going to tell me what happened?"

"I didn't exactly see it all myself, but from what Jinyoung tells me, this car came out of nowhere. The kids were a bit banged up, but you were the closest to it, so you took the brunt of the impact," Jackson supplied.

Youngjae looked around and nodded, he noticed now - Yugyeom's arm was in a cast, and Bambam had a band-aid on his chin, maybe more elsewhere. Jinyoung physically looked fine, but Youngjae winced when he noticed the large rusty stain on the front of his polo shirt, probably Youngjae's own blood.

"Don't worry hyung, as bad as we look, you look ten times worse," Bambam assured before getting cuffed in the back of the head by Jinyoung.

"We thought..." Yugyeom started, but trailed off.

"We almost thought you died there for a minute, so we're really glad you're okay," Jinyoung said, trying to put on a brave face though Youngjae could see his eyes were red and puffy.

"I almost thought I did die, I had this weird dream... about this gate, and this boy, what did he call himself... the Gate Guardian?"

Jackson raised his eyebrows, "Gate Guardian, that's some dream. Probably all these meds they've got you hopped up on, don't worry about it. You're safe now."

Jackson placed a hand, firm and warm, on Youngjae's shoulder, and planted a kiss on the top of his head. Between the warmth of contact and the comforting, familiar smell of Jackson's favourite cologne, Youngjae felt himself slipping again into dreams.   
  
  


*****

The next time Youngjae awoke Nurse Subin was bustling about his room. He looked about but his friends were nowhere to be seen. "Sorry honey, but I made your friends go home. Your vitals were looking much better and they needed their rest just as much as you did. And showers! They were still wearing those bloodstained things, really..." she tutted to herself as she fussed with Youngjae's bandaids.

"T-thank you, they're... determined," Youngjae said by way of apology.

"That they are, but I told them just to let us professionals do our jobs. Not much to do here, a watched pot doesn't boil. Now I just need to check all your dressings, change them up so you're nice and clean, okay hun? And then if you're up for it we can get you some food."

Youngjae merely nodded, and let the nurse handle him as she pleased. Nurse Subin was motherly, but boy was she strong, she reminded him not of his own mother but of a lovely lady who ran the family restaurant his friends frequented. Youngjae sighed as his stomach rumbled, boy did he miss that lady and her amazing food.

"All done, I'll be back with some pudding for you in a bit," Nurse Subin promised before slipping out the door.

"What is a _pudding_?" The voice came from nowhere and everywhere all at once. Youngjae thought he was hearing things, until he saw the owner of the voice materialize out of thin air at the end of the bed.

"W-what are you- You're a dream you're not real how did you?"

"I am the Guardian of the Gate of the Realm of the Dead," the boy assured.

"Y-yeah I'm aware, but why are you... _here_?" Youngjae asked, but the boy had disappeared.

"Here's your pudding dear," The nurse said, reappearing with a tray and helping Youngjae to sit up and adjust the bedside table into place. Youngjae thanked her and waited til she had left him alone again before turning back to the spot where the boy had been. He sighed a sigh of relief when no-one was there.

"So this pudding?" 

"Jesus fucki- Why are you on my bed and why are you touching my pudding with your fingers?"

"I have never seen this before, I was curious. It is very strange, what do we do with it?"

"Y-you eat it. Well, not you, me. It's my pudding so _you_ stop touching it," Youngjae said, removing the boy's hand from his tray. Youngjae shuddered. He had touched something, he had definitely, absolutely touched something and it felt like a human's hand. 

"You're not a dream, are you?" Youngjae said turning serious, keeping his eyes trained on the boy.

"I am the Guardian of the Gate of the Realm of the-"

"Yes, yes, Gate Guardian of the Realm of the Dead," Youngjae rolled his eyes.

"You remembered!" the boy's face lit up.

"Listen, Youngjae just calm down," he began, coaching himself in external monologue,"There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this. Sometimes, in dreams, you can even feel things, I'm sure that's scientifically explainable. Maybe if you pinch yourself you'll wake up." He grabbed a handful of his cheek and gave it a good hard tug, but the mysterious boy remained. Though, now he was pulling tissues out of the tissue box next to the bed, clapping happily every time he removed a tissue and a new one took its place.


	2. The Guardian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I'm back way faster than I imagined but I couldn't wait to share the second chapter with you all.
> 
> Thank you once again to my KBAS friends and also to A for being my unofficial beta.
> 
> And of course, thanks to everyone who read, commented, and left kudos last time!!

After getting the go ahead from the doctor, Youngjae was finally released from the hospital. Jinyoung came to help him in and out of the taxi, which Youngjae deemed completely unnecessary but put up with - for Jinyoung's sake. It was late in the afternoon, warm summer sun hazy on the horizon, as they approached Youngjae's apartment. As soon as Youngjae opened the door, he was hit with that familiar "home" smell. His home was a small, one bedroom apartment in an older building a few train stops away from their school. Kicking off his shoes Youngjae made his way to the living room, ignoring the pile of dishes in the sink, and sunk down onto his couch, sinking into the familiar lumpy mass of fabric and letting out a sigh.

"Do you want me to stay for a bit?"

"Thanks Jinyoung, but I'm really okay. I'll keep my phone on, and if I need anything I promise you I'll call. The doctor even said there's no need for you to watch me like a hawk 24/7, so don't be so worried!"

Reluctantly, Jinyoung relented, "Fine, but call one of us if you need anything, anything at all. And make sure you rest. Order delivery, no cooking, I know you have three years worth of coupons stuck to your fridge, use them!"

"Yessir," Youngjae laughed, waving Jinyoung off and watching as the elder disappeared down the entranceway and disappeared out the door, the metallic clink of the latch following after him. Youngjae leaned back into the couch. He closed his eyes, took and deep breath.

"That Jinyoung is a nice boy," a voice said, making Youngjae jump. He watched as a purple haired figure materialized at the end of the couch.

"How did you get in my house?" Youngjae said, eyes wide.

"I came with you," the Guardian said, crawling up onto the thick, padded arm of the couch. He made himself comfortable, sitting cross legged, resting his scepter across his knees. The absolutely nonchalant manner made Youngjae's blood boil - who was he, this Guardian or whatever, to come in and make himself at home in Youngjae's living room. 

"But why... why are you here? Why are you tormenting me?"

"I'm here because... because something pulled you away from me and... I knew I had to go after you," the Guardian said, looking as if it was a realization he'd only just come to himself.

"So you're here to take me back to the afterlife?"

There was a long pause, followed by the smallest voice saying, "I don't know."

"You don't... know?" Youngjae wasn't particularly fearful of the Guardian, but he was suspicious. And maybe more than a little annoyed. If something greater than the Guardian really did drag him back to this world, then who was this guy to say that he deserved to die after all? Maybe it had been a mistake to begin with. Maybe Youngjae was never meant to die. He watched the Guardian's face as the other furrowed his brows and chewed on his bottom lip, clearly mulling it over.

"I don't think I'm meant to take you back. I mean... This has never happened to me before! I didn't really think about it, I was just scared, I didn't know what was going to happen to you. So I grabbed your hand and poof, I was here. In the human realm. I've never been here before, in fact I'm not really supposed to leave my post - ever. I haven't left it in eons. If Death finds out, oh no. I forgot about Death, if he finds out... he's going to be so angry," the Guardian panicked.

"Death is a... a whatever you are too?" 

"Yes, Death is my friend. But he can be... temperamental." 

"I... see. So what do you plan to do, now that you're here? Aside from avoiding this Death guy finding out?" Youngjae's tone softened. This Guardian was awfully human, he thought, stifling a chuckle.

"I don't know... I guess, I'll do whatever you would like to do, Choi Youngjae," the Guardian beamed, eyes wide and innocent. 

Youngjae nearly choked on his own spit. He less than gracefully covered it with a rather fake sounding cough, but the pretty boy only three feet in front of him seemed none the wiser. Youngjae felt lightheaded, though he wasn't sure if it was from the accident or from this new development. 

"I need to go for a walk, to clear my head. And maybe get some food," he announced, heading for the door. 

"Can I come too?" the Guardian asked.

"Fine, but please don't ask too many questions," Youngjae asked.

"I will only ask questions if I really, really need to."

***** 

Famous last words. On the less than ten minute walk to the nearest convenience store and back, Youngjae estimated answering about 37 questions; he had also received at least twice as many crazy looks, before finally stopping in the middle of the road to ask "Am I the only one who can see you?"

"Yes, I think so, only you. And others like me." 

"Everyone is looking at me like I'm crazy because I'm here talking to myself, you do realize that right?" Youngjae chastised. 

"What is cr-"

"My turn to ask questions." Youngjae said, putting a finger to the other man's lips, "Can you make yourself visible to everyone? Can you pretend to be a human?"

"Oh, I can. I surely can do that," the Guardian nodded vigorously. 

Youngjae stared at the Guardian, waiting for something to happen. The boy blinked back at him, smiling absentmindedly. A few moments passed like this before Youngjae, exasperated, asked "Are you doing it yet?"

"Oh, you would like me to do it _now_? Yes, okay, I will do it."

The Guardian outstretched his arms, holding his scepter, palms upwards towards the sky. His eyes were closed, but Youngjae could tell he was focusing on something. Youngjae watched as the scepter rose into the air, then slowly started to disappear. Or no, it wasn't disappearing but merely shrinking down into a small brass key with a single pink flower, that was now floating between Youngjae and the Guardian. Youngjae's mouth gaped, he so badly wanted to reach out and touch the delicate, beautiful thing, though he knew he shouldn't. It didn't belong to him, after all. Just as he was thinking this, a brown leather strap appeared, and affixed the key around the Guardian's neck. A blinding light followed, so bright that Youngjae had to lift his arm to cover his eyes. When he reopened them the Guardian was grinning at him - clearly proud of himself and also absolutely stark naked.

"Where are your clothes?" Youngjae demanded, glancing around nervously.

The Guardian looked down, puzzled, as if he had not noticed he was naked (he hadn't). Once again he started chewing his lip in confusion, looking at his own naked frame. Youngjae was beginning to understand the situation he'd gotten himself into. Not only was he being followed by a godlike creature who had a huge crush on him, but said godlike creature also barely understood not only the human world, but his own damned magic too. With some difficulty Youngjae removed his hoodie and helped the other man into it. Thankfully Youngjae enjoyed loose, oversized clothing and the fabric pooled even more on the smaller boy, the hem of the sweater almost meeting his knees, the sleeves completely swallowing his fingers. It would do, for now, but Youngjae quickly grabbed the boy by the arm and started half-dragging him towards his apartment. He ushered him up the stairs, and quickly - before any of his nosey neighbours could see - locked them both up in his apartment.

*****

"What the heck was that?" Youngjae hissed.

The boy was pouting, looking like a hurt puppy, "I was just doing as you asked."

"So, you're human now?"

"I am quite human right now, in fact in this form I have all the functions of a human. It's very splendid. I could even die, but I should not do that because then Death will appear and he'll be very angry so I'd say it's imperative that I do not die, but everything else I'm excited to try!"

Youngjae rolled his eyes, of all the reasons not to die, that was what he was focused on, not getting into trouble? He looked the boy over, he was still standing there in the hallway, in the half light from the streetlights outside, wearing nothing but Youngjae's sweater. The boy was holding his hands up to his eyes, bending and unbending his fingers with childlike enthusiasm. Then suddenly he revealed a pair of very sharp teeth - teeth Youngjae had never noticed before - and bit into his own finger. Youngjae heard a muffled yelp, and the boy quickly released his own hand, staring as a small droplet of blood formed where he had broken the skin. 

"Fascinating," he mouthed to himself, brown eyes wide with wonder.

"Please don't do that, that's not... that's not normal," Youngjae pleaded.

"I've never felt pain before," the Guardian explained, still captivated by his own blood.

"Well, now you have, so let's not do that anymore." Youngjae decided. He looked the boy up and down, then realized he truly was wearing nothing but a sweater, and Youngjae had dragged him through the dirty streets with no shoes. He hadn't even been careful to avoid any glass, he was in that much of a panic. 

"We should clean you up and take care of that wound and any others. Stay right there, I'm going to get some things," he announced, disappearing into his room. He reappeared a few moments later with a t-shirt, a pair of sweats, and some clean underpants he rarely wore. He took the boy to the bathroom, and turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature to make sure it was just right, before inviting the boy to jump in. The godlike creature was just about ready to jump in - sweater and all - before Youngjae pulled him back.

"I guess you've never had a shower, huh?"

"I haven't but I've heard of them, sometimes some of the souls that come my way have slipped in the shower and passed. Sounds very dangerous," the boy said, suddenly glaring at the stream of water suspiciously, "Is this that, that shower?"

Youngjae sighed deeply. "It's only dangerous if you're not careful because you could slip and fall. But otherwise you'll enjoy it, trust me. But you have to take your clothes off first."

Finally, after explaining the various components of the shower- the soap, the shampoo, the conditioner- as well as the fundamentals of lathering and rinsing, the two were ready to embark. Youngjae decided he would stay outside, but he promised not to leave the boy so that he would be safe from any shower-related accidents. He did, however, be sure to pull the shower curtain closed, and thanked his past self for choosing one that was not transparent.

"Youngjae," the boy called after about ten minutes.

"Yes?"

"I think I'm clean now, can I come out?"

Youngjae chuckled, it was like when he would babysit his younger cousins, "Yes, you can come out, I have a towel here for you-" Scared of dying in the shower my ass, Youngjae thought, as the Guardian practically flew out of the shower. Youngjae thankfully managed to throw the towel around his waist and get it situated in place before he had seen too much. But from what he could see, he could tell the Guardian was just as lithe and muscular as he had first expected. Water dripped from his hair, rolling down his pecs and well-defined abs. He was stunning, though Youngjae would never admit it, quickly looking away.

"Use the towel to dry yourself off, then you can put on these clothes. I'll be out there when you're done. If you need help, just call me. But I think you can handle this, remember the underpants go on first," Youngjae advised before quickly exiting the bathroom.

*****

Once clothed, the Guardian joined Youngjae in the living room. To Youngjae's dismay, even the most boring, frumpy human clothes he owned did nothing to dull the boy's beauty. If anything, the contrast between the worn out collar of the t-shirt, the baggy sweatpants, and the boy's perfect features only emphasized how ethereal he really was. But there was no time for this, Youngjae assured, because he had spent the past ten minutes (yes it really took the boy ten minutes to find his way into some sweatpants) coming up with a plan.

"Listen, Gate Guardian, I've decided that you can stay with me for now. But we need to come up with a story. So listen to me very carefully, if anyone asks you're an exchange student from America. Your name is uhhh... Steve? No. George... no. Mark! Your name is Mark. Can you remember that?"

"My name is Mark. I am an exchange student from America," the Guardian beamed.

"Perfect. You can live with me for the time being, while you get adjusted to life here in the human world. But you have to stay out of trouble, you understand me?" 

He nodded.

"And you absolutely cannot say anything about being a Guardian, or talk about any other realms to anyone other than me. If anyone finds out you're a... whatever you are, it won't be good for either of us. So you have to be careful."

The newly minted Mark looked up at Youngjae with wide eyes as a small rumbling filled the room.

"Youngjae can I ask a question now?"

"Yes Mark, you can ask a question."

"Why do my insides feel like fire?"

Youngjae chuckled, "Don't tell me, you've never been hungry before? Did you not need to eat before?"

"Of course, we eat! We as godlike creatures enjoy all sorts of delicious bounty from the earth. But hunger, hunger is something only living things experience."

"I'm pretty hungry myself, so why don't I make us something? You just sit here and try not to eat my couch cushions!" Youngjae joked. He watched as Mark eyed a cushion curiously, running his pink tongue across those sharp teeth. "It- I was joking, couch cushions are not edible, okay? Just stay put. Don't do anything until I tell you to."

Thankfully he'd picked up enough food at the convenience store for two. Youngjae hoped that sort-of-Gods-made-human enjoyed instant ramen just as much as regular humans did. He went to work fixing his usual fair and was pleased to see Mark lapping it up without any hesitation. Despite his slim frame Youngjae discovered that Mark could certainly eat, polishing off two heaping bowls of rice along with the rest of his meal. It wasn't just how much he ate but the way he ate that was surprising, in fact Youngjae was at first afraid he would choke. The boy was scarfing down food at an alarming rate, cheeks about to burst.

"You must be really hungry," Youngjae commented.

"I have never felt such hunger before. Or tasted such delicious food, the taste is purely wonderful!" Mark beamed.

"You know, you could taste it a lot better if you took your time and actually chewed?"

For a moment it seemed like Mark was considering this, as his chewing slowed and his brows furrowed in thought, but he quickly returned to his breakneck pace. Something told Youngjae that Mark wasn't very good at exercising self control. Once the food was done, Youngjae cleared the plates. He decided he could leave the dishes for one more night, as his head was still pounding, and with his belly full he really wanted nothing more than to sleep. "I'm going to sleep now. I think you should too, it's important for humans to sleep," he explained to Mark patiently. The boy nodded in reply, although it was clear he had no clue what Youngjae was talking about.

"Sleeping is when you lay down and close your eyes, and you rest. It performs a similar function to eating, which gives our bodies energy, except when you sleep you conserve your energy and recharge for the next day. I- You'll just have to try it and see, okay?"

Mark nodded, and Youngjae helped him get set up with some spare blankets and pillows on the couch. The human tucked him in, taking care to make sure he was comfortable and wouldn't get cold. It was summer, but sometimes the AC could be quite strong, so he turned it down a little bit. When he turned back the godlike creature was already asleep, chest moving up and down in calm, deep breaths. 

"Becoming human must be exhausting," he smiled, before heading off to bed himself.

*****

Youngjae awoke late the next morning to the shrill ringing of his doorbell, punctuated by impatient, heavy knocking. Rubbing sleep from his eyes he padded out, and peeked through the peephole. His building was too old to have proper cameras or intercoms, so he had to go the old fashioned route. The fisheye revealed to him a rather large nose and two thickly lashed eyes, which could belong to none other than Youngjae's friend Yugyeom.

"Gyeomie, what're you doing here? Don't you know how to call?" Youngjae groaned opening the door.

"I know how to call but do you know how to pick up the phone, hyung? Apparently not," Yugyeom complained, pushing past the older boy and kicking off his shoes. 

"I guess my phone died, I forgot to charge it, it's been a hectic couple of days," Youngjae sighed.

"Well, you should be happy its me at your door and not Jinyoung, who is freaking the fuck out by the way. He wants one of us to come check on you every few hours to make sure you're still alive."

"Ughhh, he's over-reacting, I'm fine. How are you though," Youngjae said, pointing at Yugyeom's arm which was still in a sling.

"Awwe, it's no big deal, just a little fracture and it'll heal up in no time," Yugyeom said, waving off the concern with his undamaged hand, "Til then though I'm pretty useless as a busboy so my boss gave me time off work - unpaid of course. And there's no sense in dance practice either, so I'm just taking it easy."

Youngjae was grabbing some drinks in the kitchen as his friend went to make himself at home on the couch as he always did. 

Oh shit, the couch.

"Youngjae," Yugyeom said, and Youngjae could already hear the mischief creeping into the younger man's voice, "Who's this sleeping on your couch?"

"That's uh-"

The pile of blankets stirred, and Mark sat straight up, hair a mess, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He blinked a few times, as if he wasn't sure if Yugyeom was real.

"Good morning boy I've never seen before in my life but is somehow sleeping on my friend's couch," Yugyeom smirked.

"I'm Mark. I'm an exchange student from America!" 

It was a little too chipper for the first thing in the morning, but Youngjae was proud of Mark for remembering.

"Hi Mark, I'm Yugyeom. Youngjae's told me absolutely nothing about you so I guess we can catch up over breakfast," the younger announced, casting a sideways glance at his friend.

"He's just staying with me for a while, while he's studying here. He just got here yesterday, with everything going on I totally forgot to tell you guys that I'd signed up for this thing at school. Immersion or whatever, I'm supposed to be helping him get used to life in Korea."

"Sounds super lame and nerdy and exactly like something Jinyoung would do," Yugyeom scoffed.

"Y-yeah well they're giving me... extra credit."

"What? Now I want in, how do I get one?"

"Too late, applications closed, look, foreigner is already here. Get your own extra credit elsewhere."

The two looked over at the 'American' to find he'd already fallen back asleep. Mark was clearly less in the mood to ask questions today, and Youngjae silently thanked all gods and godlike creatures for that. Meanwhile the 'chaotic youth' as Youngjae liked to call him was busy snapping pictures of the sleeping boy on his phone, and uploading them to the group chat.

"What're you doing?" Youngjae demanded.

"Go charge your phone and find out!"

Youngjae stomped off towards his room, finding his phone in a plastic baggy full of his things he'd taken home from the hospital, and plugging it into the charger still in the wall. It flickered to the battery charging screen for a few seconds before booting up. He tapped through the icons, ignoring the copious amounts of red bubbles (texts and voicemails he would get to later), he pressed the yellow chat icon and opened the group chat. Scrolling down to the latest message he saw the picture of Mark, sleeping soundly, followed by the caption, "Our Youngjae's new boyfriend<3"

Replies were already pouring in.

DoubleB: no wonder he dont reply

DoubleB: hes busy :)))

PrepiJY: choi youngjae who is this man i demand to know this instant

Gyeom^^: His name is MARK and hes from AMERICA

DoubleB: ooooooo

King Wang: heartbroken :((((

Ars: HE IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND

Ars: HE IS AN EXCHANGE STUDENT

DoubleB: ooooo he lives

King Wang: so ur single still ;))))

Gyeom^^: have u seen the pic? not for long

PrepiJY: more importantly why havent you called me hows your head are you okay do you need anything

Ars: im fine really hyung ;;;;; 

DoubleB: dont go too hard man u have a head injury 

DoubleB: gyeom tell mark to be gentle

Gyeom^^: ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

DoubleB: ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

"Yugyeom don't you dare," Youngjae yelled through his bedroom's open door, as the younger boy cackled til he was red in the face. 

*****

Later that evening Youngjae ended up getting the fifth degree about his new roommate in the group's favourite haunt, Auntie's Place. Auntie's Place was a small, comfortable family owned restaurant close enough to their university to be convenient but not so close that it was always inundated with other college kids, or that it charged exorbitant prices to those desperately in need of a quick meal before class. And it was run by Auntie, who quickly became everyone's second mom. She gave them extra helpings of side dishes and little candies to cheer them through exam studies, she'd lecture them about sleeping right and not catching colds, and she'd always be brutally honest. If Auntie said "that coat doesn't suit you, dear" you knew that you'd better go home and change.

There was no better place for the group to gather and assess Youngjae's new friend. Gathering at their usual table near the back, Youngjae and Mark were ushered into the booth seat, with Jinyoung taking the outer side of the bench. Blocking us in so we can't escape, thought Youngjae. On the other side of the table sat Yugyeom, Bambam, and Jackson, grinning like hungry hyenas. Youngjae could feel his ears burning, but he turned to catch Mark's reaction out of the corner of his eye and could tell the boy was as oblivious as ever. He was simply taking in the various aspects of the restaurant and had barely even noticed the attention.

"Oh, Youngjae-ah, what's happened to your head, sweetie?" Auntie cooed as she approached their table with the menus (a formality, as they always knew what they wanted to order). 

"It's just a little bump, it's really nothing," Youngjae said sheepishly, not used to all this new attention.

"You got hit by a car and almost died, I'd hardly call that nothing," Jinyoung complained.

"Hyung, don't be dramatic, I'm fine. Besides, Yugyeom broke his arm too, he looks just as bad as I do!"

"You poor things, it's so dangerous out there. You look like you've lost weight too," Auntie said, leaning across the table to squish Youngjae's face in her hands. "And who is this?"

"That is Mark, and he's the reason we're all gathered here, because Youngjae didn't tell us he had an attractive American boy coming to live with him," Yugyeom supplied.

"Oh my, an American boy, does he like spicy food? Or is he like this one over here," she said, nudging Jackson playfully.

"I-I think he likes spicy things? Do you, Mark?"

Suddenly realizing he was the topic of conversation, Mark glanced around the table as the others waited on him expectantly. He chewed his bottom lip, clearly thinking of a response. "I... like ramyun?"

This clearly was enough to satisfy Auntie, who nodded approvingly. "I know just the thing then, and I trust the rest of you will be having your usual?" The boys nodded, and she hurried off to the kitchen, having not once even placed a menu down. 

"So, Youngjae, don't be rude, introduce us to your friend!" Jackson commanded, leaning backwards on his chair, arms folded behind his head.

"Everyone, this is Mark he's from America, and he's here on exchange. He's living with me while he's here so he can learn how normal Korean people live, emphasis on normal, not creepers like you." Youngjae did his best to cast an angry glare around the table, "Mark these are my crazy friends."

Youngjae explained each member of the group in somewhat sarcastic detail. Yugyeom being the youngest, was studying dance. Bambam was second youngest, he came from Thailand and was studying fashion design, but did a lot of modelling on the side (this earned a "yeah man" from the boy in question), Jackson was from Hong Kong, and he had met Bambam at a modelling gig, he didn't actually go to their university- or any school for that matter- and spent most of his time getting casted or trying to get casted for small advertisements, modelling gigs, and music video extras. He even dabbled in some martial arts. Jinyoung was the oldest of their group, and acted very much like the group mom. He was studying international law with a minor in philosophy, and-

"You look familiar," Mark said suddenly, staring at Jackson with narrowed eyes.

"Me?" Jackson smiled.

"We've met before, I just can't remember where."

"Do you really think you could forget meeting a handsome face like this?" Jackson chuckled, holding his thumb and forefinger up to frame his chin. "But for real, maybe you saw me in some advertisement, I think my stock photos might be used in ads for exchange studies, who knows," then he added, in English, "I've never met you before, man."

Mark looked puzzled for a moment, and it was then that Youngjae realized his big mistake. He had forgotten that Americans, in fact, speak English. Which wouldn't really be an issue for him or Yugyeom, and probably not even Jinyoung (who was good at English, but rarely spoke it around them). However, Bambam and Jackson almost exclusively spoke in a random mix of languages, slipping in and out of their mother tongues, English, and Korean all within a single sentence if they were excited enough. Did Gate Guardians speak English? Fuck.

After a pause, Mark nodded and said, with the perfect American accent, "I guess so."

Youngjae felt himself breathe again, letting out a big breath. He was so distracted by his own panic that he didn't notice Jackson's shoulder too heaved in relief. A small storm had descended and blown over the table, though not everyone was aware.

Before too long the food arrived, and Youngjae was grateful for Mark's ravenous nature. A full mouth couldn't answer questions, nor could it ask any. Mark dug in to army stew, happily chomping on vegetables, ramyun noodles, and meat alike. Auntie was quite pleased with this result, and brought extra containers of rice when Mark emptied his first one. She pushed one on Mark and the others on Youngjae and Yugyeom, telling them to eat up and regain their strength. Finally the eating slowed and turned to conversation, but it wasn't solely focused on Youngjae's new friend or his horrific accident. Instead they talked about the upcoming semester, the party some of Jackson and Bambam's model friends were throwing ("Friday night at the Warehouse, you know what that means!"), and other college kid stuff. The chatter dragged on for an hour or more after their empty dishes had been cleared, but eventually the boys decided to call it a night, slipping off into the steadily cooling summer night air.

*****

The rest of the week passed uneventfully, or as uneventfully as one can expect having a godlike creature living in their apartment. Youngjae quickly discovered that Mark could easily be entertained in the same way he entertained his smaller cousins, by sitting them in front of the television. Mark consumed hours and hours of content, everything from dramas to action films to the nightly news, as quiet and as watchful as a cat. At the beginning he tried to ask Youngjae all sorts of questions, but after a while he forgot about Youngjae altogether, which the younger boy was quite happy for as it gave him time to get down to some real work - composing. He hadn't touched his keyboard in days, but quickly plugged in his headphones and set to work on his latest composition, blocking out the sounds of the television just a few feet away. 

So Youngjae composed and Mark watched, and at the appropriate time the two would stop to eat or sleep, but they had fallen into an easy rhythm. Youngjae really didn't mind having another person there in the apartment with him, rather than being a distraction Youngjae found that just having someone's presence helped him to focus on his work. Maybe it was partially because Mark was the inspiration behind Youngjae's latest piece - no, not Mark, Youngjae corrected himself - the gate. The gate and the beauty of the world in between, now that Youngjae knew it was really real, he couldn't stop thinking about it, or dreaming about it, and those thoughts and feelings were pouring fourth from his fingertips. 

Youngjae worked his fingers over the keys, laying the base notes - the bronze; the structure; the sturdiness. On top of that he played the melody - the flowers, blooming softly; the bubbles, floating delicately on the sweetest breeze. He played and listened and replayed his creation over and over. It was a good song, maybe even his best yet, but it wasn't perfect. Something was missing, and no matter how many time he rearranged it, Youngjae couldn't find the right notes to bring out the feeling of the Between Realm. After four straight hours he finally called it a break. He stretched his sore fingers, and removed his headphones.

"Hyung, are you hungry yet?" Youngjae said over his shoulder. No response. Youngjae turned to find Mark, in the exact same spot he had been three hours ago, sitting not on the couch but rather knees pulled to his chest on the floor in front of the couch. He had the oversized hoodie Youngjae had originally given him pulled over him, hood up, so he was essentially just one big ball of sweater. The television was no longer on, and the only light in the room was from the lamp above Youngjae's workstation. It took a moment for him to realize that Mark was sobbing silently, face soaked with tears.

"M-mark are you okay?" Youngjae blurted, more shocked than anything.

"Oh Youngjae it's terrible," Mark began, voice rough, lip quivering. He explained the show he had been watching, and how the two main characters seemed to have had the most perfect love, but then it was eventually torn apart due to some circumstance that Youngjae didn't really understand, but Mark assured him it was very tragic. He had finished the series several minutes ago and had been crying ever since. 

"Hyung, remember, we discussed this. Most of the things you see on the TV aren't real, they're just stories. So there's no reason to cry okay?" Youngjae assured. 

"B-but I'm sad," Mark sniffled, "Because it... hurts." He stuck his right hand out in a sleeve, and gestured to his chest. His eyes were red and watery, he looked so stricken that Youngjae's heart panged with pity. Youngjae sat down on the floor next to him, putting an arm around Mark's slender shoulder. The not-quite-god leaned into Youngjae's shoulder, resting his face in the crook of the younger boy's neck, wetting it with warm tears.

"Youngjae, you're so warm," he murmured, lips ghosting over Youngjae's skin, sending shivers down his spine. Youngjae hummed in response, drawing shapes into the fabric of Mark's sleeve. Mark nuzzled his face closer into Youngjae's warmth, wrapping both of his arms around Youngjae's neck. And if that caused Youngjae's breath to hitch in his throat then it was only, only because he was surprised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Thoughts? Opinions? Theories? Please share them with me! Or just let me know what you liked/didn't like. 
> 
> I probably will not be able to make the rest of the updates as quickly as this one, but please stay tuned for more.


	3. The Warehouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long, I hit a bit of a writer's block over the past few weeks with everything going on in the world, but I'm slowly breaking through it now
> 
> Thank you as always to my KBAS friends and to A for their support!

Youngjae awoke to an ache in his back. He tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but was only met with something cold and solid. Finally opening his eyes he realized where he was, not in his bed but rather asleep on the floor. Someone had put a blanket over him, and that same someone was still snoring away on the couch. His head swirled with the events from the night before. Events that Youngjae was certain he could rationalize away. He knew that he in no way could have feelings for someone he'd only just met and knew barely anything about - especially when that someone wasn't even human. He had merely become caught up in the emotion of the moment, something that was easy to do when someone was as emotional as Mark seemed to be. 

Youngjae shook his head. He got up, looked for his phone and found it next to his piano. The clock read 11:54am. There were also a bunch of missed messages in the group chat, so he swiped it open.

King Wang: TONIGHT! the warehouse. attendance MANDANTORY.

PrepiJY: it's mandatory

King Wang: SEE. Even Nyeongie's on board and he hates fun

PrepiJY: no you spelled it wrong it's MANDATORY not MANDANTORY

DoubleB: u kno im always down

DoubleB: gyeomie says is youngjae bringing his bf??? ^ o ^

Ars: hes not my bf

Youngjae's eyes trailed to the couch. Mark was sleeping peacefully in the morning light, and Youngjae found it hard to deny that he was truly gorgeous. Even with a little bit of drool dripping down the side of his mouth. Youngjae felt a little guilty for not showing Mark more courtesy for what could possibly be his only short stay in the Human Realm ever. He had a habit of being a bit of a shut-in himself and that was quickly rubbing off on his guest. A night out with the boys, it couldn't possibly be any more chaotic than any other night out with his friends. Sighing, he turned back to his phone screen and tapped away.

Ars: fine... we're coming

King Wang: solid

DoubleB: yesss my bro

DoubleB: gyeomie says *\ ^ o ^ /*

PrepiJY: did he say that though? did he verbalize that /exact/ phrase to you?

Gyeom^^: I DID AND YOU CANT STOP ME AHAHAHAHA

King Wang: then were all in!!!

King Wang: youngjae tell ur friend first drinks on me ;)

DoubleB: oooooo

DoubleB: jackson tryna steal youngjaes man oooooo

Gyeom^^: ooooooooooo

Ars: i will block you all

*****

When Mark finally awoke, it was to the smell of freshly cooked scrambled eggs. Youngjae wouldn't call himself a chef by any means, but the way that Mark ate anything could convince you it was the best meal he'd ever had. And he always asked for seconds, so Youngjae made sure he had lots on hand. He knew his bank account would hurting after too long with the extra mouth and a half to feed, but watching Mark tuck in so happily was worth it. 

"Mark, the guys want to go out tonight, there's a club that Jackson loves called the Warehouse. Do you wanna go?"

Mark paused mid-chew, swallowing awkwardly. "Will you be going?"

Youngjae chuckled, "Of course I'll be going. And they specifically invited you to come with me."

"If Youngjae is going to this... this Warehouse, then I want to go too." 

Just then Youngjae's phone rang, and Youngjae didn't need three guesses to tell you who it was. He picked up on what was probably the last ring, and Jackson's excited voice filled his ears, "Youngjae!! What're you wearing tonight? What about your friend?" He mumbled something about 'clothes', which clearly left Jackson unsatisfied. Youngjae groaned inwardly. His friends were always trying to improve his wardrobe in some sort of attempt to get him laid ('Not just laid, Youngjae, you deserve a boyfriend' Jackson had insisted). Real rich coming from a group of almost entirely single young men. The worst of it came from Bambam and Jackson, who due to their profession always had access to the most fashionable clothing and the most popular parties. It wasn't exactly Youngjae's scene but he knew it made his friends happy, fussing over him, so he let it continue.

"I've got a bunch of new sample shit, I'll bring it over," Jackson said brightly on the other side of the line.

Youngjae rolled his eyes. But then he saw the opportunity. Mark did need clothes. Something inside him told him that Mark was probably content to wear the same ratty t-shirt forever if an intervention wasn't staged. So Mark really needed clothes. Preferably clothes in his own size, that didn't belong to Youngjae. His friends would certainly get suspicious if the foreign exchange student kept showing up dressed head-to-toe in Youngjae's things. That first day he had even been wearing Youngjae's underwear, although thankfully Youngjae had had the sense to nip out to the convenience store and get Mark some undies of his own. That had been an ordeal. 

"Fine," Youngjae finally conceded.

"Great! I'll be there soon," Jackson said, about to cut the call.

"Wait, hyung," Youngjae rushed, "Can you do me a favour, I need you to get me something..." 

*****

A little over an hour later the bell rang, and Youngjae opened the door to find Jackson, arms full of shopping bags - not the shitty plastic kind you find at the convenience store, the nice paper kind with real strings that you get from high end shops. Jackson bustled past the younger boy, kicking off his shoes, and headed for the livingroom, dropping the bags in a heap in the middle of the floor. Mark, who had been deeply invested in organizing the takeout coupons on Youngjae's fridge spun around with a start, looking suspiciously between Jackson and the bags. Jackson could spend hours playing stylist if he wanted, and Youngjae for once just happy he wasn't the target, slipped quietly into his room.

"It's clothes, for the party tonight," Jackson explained, inviting Mark to take a look, "Why don't you pick out something you like?"

Mark hesitated at first, but after urging from Jackson, he reached out and pulled a few items out of one of the bags, looking them over. He had seen human clothing before, sure, but he had never really looked at it. He had never really thought much about it at all really, and he had been wearing the same clothing for several thousand years, since fashion wasn't really a thing amongst godlike creatures and neither were human issues like being sweaty or smelly. Mark's friend Death did wear an arrangement of different clothes, because he spent a lot of time in the human realm. Mark thought they were interesting, to say the least. But he wasn't exactly keen on looking like his dear friend, either. 

Mark turned to Jackson, "What would... what would Youngjae like?"

Jackson smiled, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he sat perched on one arm of the couch, "Don't worry, I've got just the thing."

*****

Half an hour later, Youngjae was dressed in his best going out clothes - faded grey jeans that were tight in just the right way, and a black dress shirt he was certain he'd gotten from Jackson at some point because it had an actual label in it. He'd also ran a little bit of product through his hair to give it some shape, a shape other than 'probably should've been cut three weeks ago' mixed with 'ran out of the shower late for class'. It was now presentable. Admittedly, it hadn't taken Youngjae half an hour to pull this look together, it took him about five minutes, and then he spent the remaining time playing games on his phone. 

Groaning as he got up from his bed, Youngjae made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He was nearly done when Jackson called out to him, "Come take a look!"

Youngjae nearly choked on his toothpaste. Jackson had outdone himself. He had really outdone himself this time. Youngjae's clothes barely did Mark's lithe form justice. In this outfit (a wine-coloured, loose fitting dress shirt and a pair of extremely tight black pleather trousers), every aspect of his figure was revealed. The outfit reminded him a lot of the clothes Mark had been wearing when they first met, except now with more sultry undertone. It wasn't just the clothing. It was dark shadow lining the boys eyes, gone was the soft, wide eyed looks of innocence. Now Mark's eyes haunted him as the older boy stared him down from across the room. And was that lipgloss? Youngjae tried not to stare at how perfectly shaped the Guardian's pillowy lips were, looking almost lewd under the thick coat of sticky, sparkly gloss. Youngjae had to hold back the urge to lick his own lips in temptation, and decided instead it was best if he just kept his eyes focused out the window.

Jackson Wang was an asshole. 

Not too long after, Youngjae, Jackson, and Mark piled into a taxi headed for the infamous Warehouse. Jackson slyly managed to shove Mark into the middle, sandwiching the boy between him and Youngjae. From this proximity it was hard for Youngjae to ignore the finer details of Jackson's handiwork, like the delicious smell of Mark's cologne, or the impossibly low cut of the the dress shirt - several buttons left undone. Youngjae watched as Mark fiddled nervously with his necklace, biting his bottom lip, habits that were becoming all too familiar to Youngjae no matter how hard he tried to ignore them. The taxi driver wasn't helping the situation either, in fact he seemed to have found the most winding route possible, each turn pushing the warmth of Mark's body up against Youngjae's, and then just as soon pulling him away. At one point the driver hit a particularly large pothole that almost sent Mark flying straight into Youngjae's lap, and the younger boy could've sworn he saw Jackson smirking out of the corner of his eye. There was a plot brewing here, he was sure of it.

Thankfully the three boys finally arrived at the Warehouse, which literally was just a large, oversized warehouse building. Music was thrumming from inside, but outside was just as busy. Men and women in all sorts of outfits were milling about outside, taking drags on cigarettes, clinging to one another, gossiping and giggling, a few in the darker corners were presumably making out. Youngjae didn't exactly dig the club scene. Too many people who were far too drunk in such a small, dark place, bumping up against him. But he could tolerate it when he was with his friends, especially when his friends were Bambam and Jackson who always managed to secure themselves a booth with bottle service, despite Youngjae knowing they were both incredibly broke. It helps to know people, Youngjae thought. The three hopped out of the car, and Jackson paused, handing Mark a small card.

"Youngjae was worried your American ID wouldn't fly here, so I got you a Korean one. It's fake, of course. But it'll do just fine, it even has your real birthday! September 4, 1993, right?"

Jackson gave the older boy a hard pat on the back as Mark eyed the card over, back and front. "Thank you," he beamed. Jackson shrugged and waved the group towards the door. A stocky but not particularly tall bouncer stood at the door. He was stone faced and stern, until the group of girls in front of them stumbled inside, making way for Jackson.

"Jackson, what's good?" the bouncer smiled, pulling Jackson into a hug. 

"You know, just working, staying fit, how about you, how's the kids?" 

Youngjae's attention wasn't on the conversation, but rather on Mark, whose eyes were scanning the bouncer up and down in an attempt to analyze the scene before him.

"He's the bouncer," Youngjae explained, "He decides who gets in and who doesn't. But don't worry, we're with Jackson so we'll obviously get in."

"He is not a Guardian," Mark replied, anger slipping into his voice, "He's an imposter."

"He's not a Guardian, this is just his job, he's just security. It's a thing in this realm," Youngjae explained, earning nothing more than a huff in response. "Just make sure you show him your little card, okay?" he assured. Mark shot the bouncer a dirty look, but the man didn't notice, too wrapped up in Jackson's charisma. 

"Well go on then, have your fun," the bouncer said, giving Jackson a final pat on the back. Youngjae, wanting to avoid any potential conflicts, grabbed Mark's hand forcing him to flash the ID and then dragged him inside. And inside was quite the sight to behold. For as drab and ugly as the Warehouse was on the outside, it was just as splendid and bedazzled on the inside. The overall theme was black, silver, and red velvet. The walls and general structure were all painted pitch black, but were lined with shiny silver metal, so polished it was almost a mirror. The metal was cut into oblongs and diamonds, making it look like shattered glass across the walls and staircases. Youngjae, still holding Mark's arm, guided the open-mouthed Guardian up one such staircase, towards the private booth area. From there you could see the chandeliers - dozens of them - lining the upper deck as well as the ceiling of the main dancefloor. They were all antiques, none of them matching, but the diamonds in them caught the light from the various light machines and refracted it around the room. A thousand times more beautiful than any chincy disco ball. 

Youngjae watched Mark's astonished face with amusement. A nearby chandelier caught the light, casting a rainbow across the boys' cheek. Youngjae thought it was fitting, Marks' delicate features, beautiful high cheekbones, soaking in the array of colours. It was breathtaking, he was breathtaking. And for a moment Youngjae wanted to run his thumb across that cheek, just to feel how soft it must be. Dropping Mark's hand, he lifted his fingers gently, only an inch away from his face.

"Youngjae brought his boyfriend," a familiar voice squealed, bringing Youngjae back to reality. He rolled his eyes, hard, and glared at Bambam who had just popped out of a booth a couple of feet away. The Thai boy was dressed to the tens in a black satin dress shirt covered in small opalescent crystals, and a very tight, very ripped pair of black jeans. He was decked out in silver chains, and a chunky silver wristwatch that sparkled almost as much as the Warehouse chandeliers. To make matters worse, he was wearing orange tinted glasses - indoors. Bambam would be every bit the cool and mysterious model he was on set, if only he wasn't currently jumping up and down shouting 'oh! oh!' and excitedly waving his friends over.

"Gangs all here," Jackson said, slipping into the booth next to Jinyoung and wrapping his arm around Jinyoung's shoulder. Youngjae moved to sit on the outside of the bench with Jackson, but he quickly moved a leg in that direction and he was forced to squeeze in with Mark next to the two youngest instead. 

A server appeared, someone Youngjae vaguely recognized but his friends seemed to be close with. He was carrying a stack of shot glasses and two bottles of soju. A second server appeared seconds later with a round of beers. Given the week he'd just had, Youngjae was probably meant to take it easy on the drinking, but given the week he'd just had he was definitely going to partake. Bambam, being the youngest member with both wrists intact, poured a round of soju for everyone. 

"Cheers!" five boys yelled in unison, downing their shots.

"Well, Mark, it's soju. Korean alcohol, give it a try?" Bambam encouraged. Mark shrunk under the attention as five pairs of eyes watched him intently. He lifted the small glass to his lips and took a sip, face instantly contorting into a grimace. 

"It's... unique..." he said, trying to be as nice as possible.

"You don't sip it, you shoot it," Jackson assured. He was already refilling the empty glasses on the table, including topping up the little bit missing from his glass so that it once again was nearly overflowing with the clear liquid. "Try again, all at once. Trust me, you'll like it once you get used to it!"

Mark nodded, giving a half-smile. This time he too lifted his glass before downing the entirety of its contents. He looked at Youngjae for approval, redness beginning to spread across his face as the alcohol invaded his bloodstream. Youngjae hummed, trying to avoid direct eye contact, "Just don't drink too much, I still need to get you home tonight."

"Ooh," Yugyeom cooed, "Did you hear that Bammie, Youngjae-hyung needs to get Mark-hyung here home tonight." 

Bambam waggled his eyebrows in response. "How does Youngjae-hyung know he's the one taking Mark home tonight and not some other fine Warehouse specimen," he goaded, waving his arm in a sweeping gesture towards the packed dancefloor downstairs. "I mean just look at you, a sexy foreign boy with those lips and those eyes, everyone in this place is probably just waiting to snatch you up!"

Bambam was about to say more when his phone screen lit up. Instantly, he smiled, grabbing his phone and typing away. "He's only saying that," Yugyeom elaborated, "Because that's exactly how he found his latest fling."

"Fling?" Mark asked, unfamiliar with the word.

"You know, fling, hook up, fuck buddy," Yugyeom explained. The other boy merely tilted his head in confusion.

Mortified, Yugyeom turned to Youngjae, "Oh my god, please tell me he knows what sex is? He's not one of those weird saving it for marriage types is he?"

"He- he does! He just doesn't know the weird slang we use, I mean where's he meant to learn that?" 

"Bambam knows the weird slang we use, I mean, sometimes he teaches me the weird slang we use..." Yugyeom drifted off, "Anyway, sex. They're just fucking. Not a big deal except someone here went and caught feelings, again. And I bet you in about a week's time he'll come to me crying (again) and we'll end up eating a bucket of ice cream while watching sad romance movies on the couch (again), then he'll complain that all the junk food made his face break out and now his career is ruined (again)."

The Youngest shot a pointed look at his best friend, who was otherwise oblivious to the conversation. "He's here!" Bambam practically shouted, "Let's go downstairs, I wanna dance." 

*****

The crew made their way downstairs, towards the throng of clubgoers dancing their hearts out, swaying and undulating to the beat. Moving through the crowd, Mark stayed close to Youngjae, slender fingers gripping the hem of his shirt. Jinyoung stopped just ahead of Youngjae, and Youngjae turned in concern, giving Mark a once over. Given that things worked differently in the Between Realm, Youngjae wondered if Mark ever encounter so many people at once. He was starting to wonder whether this had been a mistake, if he had've been thinking more about the godlike creature's needs and not rushed him into something so overwhelming, when Mark flashed him a toothy grin. "I like this, it's fun," he said leaning in close. His warm breath tickled at Youngjae's ear. 

"Yeah, the music's great tonight," Youngjae yelled over the music, his arm slinking around Mark's waist without thinking. Just then his eyes caught something in his peripheral vision, just over Mark's left shoulder. It was a man, tall and handsome with dark unruly hair. He was wearing all black, including a rather hefty looking leather jacket. Not at all the typical attire you'd see in the Warehouse, more like something out of a punk rock venue. He was standing on the complete other side of the large room, leaning back with one foot propped up against the wall. Youngjae wasn't sure why in a room literally full of people this one man caught his attention, but as he looked away from the man's clothing and back to his face he realized that the stranger was staring straight at him. And he didn't look particularly happy.

Someone in the crowd bumped him, nearly sending Youngjae sprawling. "Sawwwreeeee," a ridiculously drunk blonde girl apologized before moving on. Shaking it off, Youngjae looked for the man across the room again, but he was gone. Either into the crowd, or gone forever Youngjae didn't know, but he couldn't shake the unsettling feeling in his gut. 

"Is everything okay?" Mark asked, pouting. 

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine... Hey where'd you get that drink?" Youngjae scolded, before a cold bottle of his favourite beer was pressed firmly into his hand. 

"Drinks for everyone, courtesy of the best man ever," Bambam purred, clutching the larger man's chest and looking coy. Bambam's date - Changbeom or whatever - remained stone faced and quiet. Youngjae absolutely didn't see what Bambam saw in this guy, but a free beer was a free beer. Mark on the other hand was sipping happily at the pink beverage. 

"It's a Malibu Sunset, it's super sweet. I thought he'd like it so I told Bambam to get him one," Jinyoung mouthed, coming up behind Youngjae and leaning into his ear. 

"He seems happy, at least," Youngjae shrugged, leave it to Jinyoung to know all about the girly drinks. "I wonder if go- ah... guys, if guys like him get hangovers?"

"You mean... Americans?" Jinyoung chuckled, "Guess you'll find out." 

Mark had already downed the drink, and discovered the cherry in the bottom of his glass. It was caught amongst the ice cubes and he was struggling to use his tongue to get it out. Youngjae watched, enamored, as he snaked his tongue through the ice and delicately tried to pull the cherry free. He could hear Yugyeom cackling high and wild in the background, but he couldn't look away. Judging by the sudden sharp intake of breath Jinyoung made at his shoulder, he couldn't either. When the cherry finally popped free Mark held it dutifully on his tongue before rolling it back into his mouth. He promptly flashed the most triumphant smile. 

Youngjae was nearly certain if Jinyoung hadn't still had an arm around him, his knees would've given out. 

"Jinyoungie, this iss ssso... delicious," Mark announced loudly, then added, "Can I... haf... another one?" making doe eyes in Jinyoung's direction. 

And there it was, that feeling again. Youngjae turned, looking past where Bambam was now making out with his freakishly tall built stone faced dude, over to a dark corner at the edge of the bar. A man in a black leather jacket was sitting there, swirling a whisky glass, staring at Youngjae. And this wasn't the type of staring you'd expect in a club, he wasn't ogling him by any means. His eyes were hard, mouth drawn into a tight line, almost murderous.

"No- no more drinks. We've gotta go home now," Youngjae said, grabbing the glass out of Mark's hand and handing it to Jinyoung. He took Mark's hand tightly in his, pulling the boy's unsteady body closer so that he could balance his weight better. "Where's Jackson, by the way? Can you tell him we're leaving?"

"Jackson... he ran off a little while ago, said there was something he needed to see to," Jinyoung mused. "Probably ran into another potential gig and wanted to suss it out. Are you sure you're okay though? With him?"

Youngjae laughed, "Yeah, yeah we're fine. But he's a bit too drunk so I think it's time we go. You guys have fun!" 

Youngjae said a quick goodbye while Mark waved far too enthusiastically. "Let's go," Youngjae whispered more urgently, pulling the boy along. He took a longer route than he normally would've, navigating through the sea of undulating bodies towards the staircase they'd climbed previously and ultimately the exit. He just wanted to stay as far away from the corner of that bar as possible. Thankfully at this time of night people were still arriving to The Warehouse, and it was fairly easy to catch a cab going the opposite way. Youngjae shoved Mark a little ungracefully into the back of the cab, did a quick shoulder check to make sure they weren't being followed by any axe murdering punk rockers, and then quickly slammed the door. He gave the cabby his address and they sped off.

*****

With great difficulty Youngjae managed to drag the drunk godlike creature up the steps to his apartment. Mark had his arms wrapped around Youngjae's waist, leaning on him heavily as Youngjae tried to simultaneously keep him upright and locate his keys. He cursed his stupid, old apartment building inwardly for still having a lock and key system instead of a proper keypad. 

"Hyung, can you- Can you stand on your own for a minute? I need to get my keys and-" Youngjae grunted, heaving the dead weight. The other man seemed to think this whole ordeal was hilarious, breaking out in a fit of giggles, clinging to Youngjae closer.

"Noooo, don't let me go," he whined, craning his head up to meet Youngjae's eyes. Big round eyes and blushed cheeks pleaded, "Please, don't let go of me~"

Youngjae huffed, "Listen we'll be sleeping outside if I can't get this door open so-"

Mark lifted a finger in the direction of the door. There was a click, and then suddenly it swung open. Youngjae's mouth dropped open in shock.

"Now you don't have to let go of me," Mark smiled. 

Saving his questions for later, for a more sober Mark, Youngjae dragged the two of them over the threshold and into the apartment. "I'm never letting you drink again," he muttered as he kicked off his shoes. Mark struggled but managed to do the same, before collapsing in a fit of giggles on the floor. Youngjae moved past him, bee-lining for the kitchen, where he quickly fetched two glasses of water. He placed one on the ground next to Mark, and then sunk down to the floor. 

"Drink it, trust me, you'll wish you had by the time morning comes," Youngjae instructed and Mark did as he was told.

"Youngjae, why sss everythin spinnin?" Mark slurred.

"Because you're drunk." Youngjae explained. Mark nodded, or tried to, his head rolling loosly on his neck.

"Youngjae…. Whysss everythin feel ting-el-eeeee?"

"Because you're _drunk_." Youngjae smiled, patting Mark’s arm and pointing towards the glass again.

"But Youngjae…. Why’re you ssssso pretty?"

"Because you're..." the words died on Youngjae's lips as he looked up into Mark's saucer-like eyes. 

"Because you're drunk, okay? Now finish up your water and let's..." He looked up to find Mark, head dipped forwards, snoring. The water glass, now empty thankfully, was grasped loosely in his limp hand.

The way he saw it, Youngjae was faced with two options, drag the boy to the couch which was considerably further away, or put him into his own bed. He considered for a minute a third option, just leave him there, but Youngjae didn't want to accidentally trip over Mark in the night. He also was a little bit concerned about the boys heavily intoxicated state. Although it was less than appealing, pulling the purple haired mess into his own bed seemed like the better option.

Youngjae pulled Mark's two arms around his neck, and managed to lift him onto his back. Each step was labourous but thankfully it was only about ten steps from the hallway to his bed, where he promptly dropped Mark like a sack of potatoes. Foolishly this meant that the blankets were now trapped beneath the sleeping man, so Youngjae gave them a few unceremonious yanks before they were freed. He looked down at Mark's unconscious body, you might even think he was dead, but the heavy rise and fall of his chest and the occasional snort told Youngjae otherwise. He was still in his clothes with the dark make-up on, and Youngjae felt a little bit bad about leaving him like this. The clothing he wasn't willing to touch, but the make-up would have to go. 

Youngjae disappeared to the bathroom, returning with a warm, damp cloth. He prayed that whatever products Jackson used they were water soluble. Maybe if this had been Bambam's apartment or Jackson's there would be some make-up remover laying around, but all Youngjae had was some mild face cleanser. Gently, he rubbed at the corners of Mark's eyes, happy to see the colours fading from his skin and onto the cloth. He did the best he could, and although a little bit of mascara still clung to the boys lashes Youngjae felt that he had done his duty. 

After putting away the cloth and washing his own face, Youngjae finally changed into a tshirt and his comfiest pajama pants and turned out the light. He tried to sneak into bed as gently as possible, but he was also fairly tipsy and ended up unceremoniously flopping onto the matress. He pulled the covers over him, and was met with the unfortunate realization that his bed was much, much smaller than he'd imagined it was now that it had two people in it. It was impossible to avoid the other boy's warmth, his scent, the soft sound of his breathing. Youngjae layed absolutely still, trying to determine his next move.

"Is it better if I sleep on my back... or should I roll over onto my side?" Youngjae whispered to himself. "It might be better if I'm completely facing away from him," Youngjae began to roll onto his side, but stopped abruptly, "If I do that, our butts will be touching." He shook his head. This was awful. He certainly wasn't going to roll towards the other man, there was absolutely no room in his bed for spooning with intoxicated godlike creatures. Determining that laying flat on his back was probably the most neutral pose he could adopt, Youngjae settled and fell asleep almost instantly.

*****

When Youngjae next awoke it was to Mark pulling urgently on his sleeve, looking rather green. "Youngjae...." he said weakly, but Youngjae had already sprung out of bed and was busy pushing him towards the washroom. Twenty minutes later he was gently patting Mark's back as the older had finally finished emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl. 

"Youngjae, why did you let me drink poison?" Mark said, eyes watery from the struggle he'd endured.

"Actually, if I recall correctly, I told you very specifically not to drink too much," Youngjae chastised with a giggle. Mark looked rather pathetic hanging on to the toilet bowl for dear life, it reminded Youngjae of when he first started hanging out with the rest of the boys. It hadn't been his first time drinking, but it had definitely been his first time being that drunk. 'Absolutely shitfaced' Jackson had called it as he practically scraped Youngjae's body off the toilet and forced him to drink some strong, disgusting medicinal shot that apparently cured hangovers. If it did or not Youngjae would never know, because just as soon as the foul liquid was down his throat it came right back up again. Youngjae chuckled to himself thinking about Jackson's unimpressed face.

"You feeling better?" Youngjae asked, given Mark's back another rub. "Ready to go back to sleep? It's only 7am, I think we could catch a few more hours, huh?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the latest chapter! As always, I look forward to your comments!!
> 
> Everyone please stay safe and healthy. I'll try to come back with the next chapter soon!


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